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"I need to tell Charlie tonight," I say. "Before I lose my nerve."

Jane nods, reaching for my hand. "Then let's get you back to that wedding."

Chapter 20

Charlie

I'm on my third scotch at the bar, my eyes darting around the room every few seconds. Stuart's telling some story about his golf trip to Ireland, but his words float past me, disconnected syllables that don't register.

All I can think about is Tess's face when she said those words—"I think I'm pregnant"—and how I haven’t seen her since then. I know she’s with Jane. Trey said the two of them left in Jane’s car.

The scotch isn't numbing me like I hoped; instead, it's amplifying the pounding in my chest and the storm in my head.

I realize Stuart has stopped talking and I drag my eyes to his. "Did you hear anything I just said?"

"Sorry," I mutter, ice cubes clinking as I swirl what's left of my drink. "Just wondering where Tess went."

Stuart's expression shifts from annoyance to something more perceptive. "I’m sure she’ll be back soon." He pauses, studying me. "You know, for what it's worth, that whole thing at the table?—"

"I don't want to talk about it." My voice comes out sharper than intended.

Stuart raises his hands in surrender. "Fair enough. But if you need?—"

"I don't," I cut him off again, then immediately regret it. "Sorry. I'm just..."

"Freaking out?" he offers, a hint of a smile playing at his lips.

Before I can respond, I spot them—Jane and Tess, slipping back into the reception. Tess looks pale, her movements careful and deliberate, like she's walking on glass.

My stomach drops. This isn't the face of someone who made a ridiculous joke. This is the face of someone whose world just imploded.

"She’s back. I'll catch you later," I tell Stuart, already moving away.

She sees me approaching and something flickers across her face—fear? Determination? I can't quite read it. Jane whispers something in her ear before squeezing her hand and moving away, giving us space but keeping a watchful eye from a distance.

"Hey," I say, the word feeling pathetically inadequate. "You okay?"

Tess attempts a smile but fails. "Yeah. Just needed some air."

We stand there, surrounded by laughing guests and music, a pocket of silence between us. Words crowd my throat but none seem right.

"Charlie—" she begins.

"Listen—" I say at the same time.

We both stop. I gesture for her to continue, but she shakes her head.

"Not here," she says quietly.

"Right," I agree, relieved and terrified at the postponement. "Of course."

Trey appears at my elbow, champagne in hand. "The cake cutting's about to start. Jane sent me to collect you two."

I force a smile, the muscles in my face straining with the effort. "Great. Wouldn't want to miss that."

We follow Trey to where Jane stands near the cake table. The four of us cluster together as the bride and groom prepare for the traditional moment. I detect a slight tremble in Tess’s hand when she accepts a glass of water from a passing waiter.

We make small talk about how beautiful the cake looks while a bomb sits between us. The absurdity makes me want to laugh.